by Ayles, Abby
Miss Natalie, by happenstance, entered the room right as it was happening. John did not see her but he was aware of the door opening. Aware of her presence. The feeling of warmth that it brought.
He was standing. Emma still had a hold of Father’s one hand. Edward was on the other side, sitting. The doctor was next to him, Father’s wrist in his hand as the doctor listened to the pulse.
John could see his chest go still and felt his own breathing stutter.
He was not the sort of man who cried, but he could feel the weight of it straining against his lungs. Pressing against his eyelids.
He closed his eyes. Counted to ten. Composed himself. Took a deep breath and opened his eyes again.
The doctor shook his head at him.
Emma started to cry, very quietly. John slowly exhaled.
Father would want the details of the funeral dealt with immediately. He must see to that.
He turned and saw Miss Natalie. Made eye contact with her.
John nearly forgot himself. He nearly crossed to her and sank down on his knees, seeking comfort.
But Miss Natalie would not appreciate such a gesture and besides, it was not to be done in front of others. That was for a private time between man and wife only.
There was much to be done.
John refused to give himself over to the warmth in her eyes, the sympathy and sadness that he saw etched in her face.
He nodded at her and then walked out of the room.
He was the earl now. He was in charge of Mountbank.
He must take good care of her.
Chapter 37
Natalie entered the room just as the earl was giving up the ghost.
It was a sad but simple thing to see. There was no pomp and circumstance. No great last words. No seizures or anything of a distasteful nature.
He was merely there one moment, breathing. And then he was gone the next. His body became still.
Emma started to cry at once. Natalie could not blame her. She was only a little fond of the earl. She had not been able to deepen the affection beyond that of a gentle camaraderie. But even still she felt a lump in her throat.
Lord Ridgecleff turned and saw her. Not just a lord through being the first born, not anymore. He was the earl now. Earl of Mountbank.
Natalie felt the sudden urge to curtsy again. Just for the sake of that.
He looked at her for a moment as if he were a drowning man and she was the rope thrown out for him to catch onto. His eyes were rimmed red and she saw how his breath stuttered in his chest.
He looked like a man about to come undone.
But then he drew himself up and she saw that raw look shuttered away. It was replaced by a look of calm fortitude.
He nodded at her and then walked past, out of the room.
Natalie wanted to run after him. But what could she possibly say or do that would fix things?
Miss Ridgecleff, however, was crying. That she could help with.
She crossed over to her and took the other girl into her arms. “I shall handle her,” she said to the younger brother.
He bowed in thanks, looking quite at a loss what to do with his crying sister.
“Doctor, if you have any prescriptions for what might be done with the body until we can finish with the funeral arrangements?” Natalie asked. She remembered that from when Mother had died. Bridget had handled all of that then. Father had been too full of grief.
“Of course.”
“And you, sir, I think are in need of fresh air,” she told the younger lord. “I prescribe a good walk. Take my sister with you, she will lend a kind ear.”
To her surprise, the man obeyed as if in a daze. Louisa would be helpful in getting him through this. She was rather good at listening and helping people through great moments of emotion.
Natalie suspected that Louisa was the one person Bridget had ever dared to share anything of her heart with over the years. Since Louisa was the one person about whom Bridget did not have to worry.
Miss Ridgecleff continued to cry quietly. Natalie helped her to her feet. No sense in having the poor girl stay in this room with the body of her late father.
“Come now,” Natalie told her. “He wouldn’t want any of that. Let’s go and get you some nice hot tea and you can cry it out all you like there.”
Natalie could admit that she was a believer in crying things out when they needed to be. But it had to be done out of the way. There would be work that needed to be done to prepare for the changing of the guard, so to speak, and preparing for the funeral.
Already half of her mind was thinking about what was needed. A menu must be drawn up. An announcement had to be put in the papers and invitations sent out. The master bedroom belonged to her lord now. It would need to be cleaned with linens changed out and any redecorating done as he desired.
This was what was meant, she thought, when people said there was no time for grief.
She got Miss Ridgecleff to her own room and then called for tea to be brought up there. Then she dutifully wiped at the girl’s tears and held her hand.
Miss Ridgecleff cried quietly for some time. Eventually she began to talk. She spoke of all the good things and of her frustrations and concerns.
Natalie did her best to listen. It was her inclination to distract Miss Ridgecleff, to chase away her grief with laughter. But she knew that must wait for later.
It was not good to wallow in grief. She knew that. Wallowing in grief had been what destroyed her father and nearly cost her entire family.
But there would be time to distract later. The grief could not be ignored any more than it could be indulged. Miss Ridgecleff had every right to cry for the time being and so Natalie let her. She let Miss Ridgecleff have her time of mourning.
When at last she quieted, Miss Ridgecleff turned her blotchy face to Natalie with a small smile of relief. “Thank you. For sitting with me. I fear I have been wearisome company.”
“You needed someone to talk to,” Natalie replied. “I remember well what it felt like to lose my mother. I would be a sore person indeed if I left you alone at this time.”
“But what of my brother?” Miss Ridgecleff asked. “John, I mean. Surely you should be with him.”
“He is the earl now, Miss Ridgecleff,” Natalie reminded her.
“Yes, but even an earl must grieve,” Miss Ridgecleff replied. “And it is Emma now, I should think. You are to be my sister, and you have earned my affection.”
“Emma,” Natalie said, correcting herself. She smiled. “And you may call me simply Natalie.”
Emma gave a smile back to her, albeit a watery smile.
“Perhaps you should rest,” Natalie suggested. “A nap will do you good. I shall have you woken up in time for a meal and then you can eat and face the rest of the day fresh.”
Emma nodded. “I feel horribly exhausted,” she confessed, “even though I have done nothing except cry.”
“That is the way of grief and other great emotions,” Natalie replied. “They take quite a lot out of you. More than a long night at a ball ever could.”
Emma laughed a little as Natalie led her to bed and helped her to dispose of her outfit and get into a night dress. Natalie had helped her sisters get dressed and undressed many a time over the years, so it was not a bother.
“That is true,” Emma conceded.
She climbed into bed and let Natalie fluff her pillows for her. It reminded Natalie of Elizabeth, and even of Regina. She felt a sadness grip her heart.
She ought to write the both of them. Tell them that she missed them. Ask them…well, especially ask Regina…if she might rekindle their relationship.
She wanted to be a better sister to them.
Emma was asleep almost by the time Natalie reached the bedroom door. She had a maid quietly clean up the remains of the tea and headed downstairs.
She could easily guess where her lord was. He would be dealing with the affairs of the funeral and the estate without even a tho
ught to his own grief or his personal needs.
Sure enough, just as she had suspected, he was in his father’s office.
His office, now. The earl’s office.
Natalie knocked on the doorframe. “My lord?”
He turned and looked at her. He seemed startled, but not unpleasantly so, to see her there. “Yes? Is there something that you require?”
Natalie shook her head. “I only came to inquire after your health, my lord. Do you require any food? Perhaps tea?”
Lord Ridgecleff shook his head. “I do not have time for such things. There are important matters to attend to. The changeover from my father to myself must be as smooth as possible. I must check that all the paperwork is in order and that I understand all the systems…”
Natalie was not going to have that. He would not run himself into the ground, not so long as she was around.
That thought gave her pause.
The previous earl was dead.
Lord Ridgecleff’s father, the man who had ordained that his son should have a wife or at least a fiancée when he returned home. Otherwise, his son would be cut off…
But that earl was gone now and he had not changed anything in the legal papers. His eldest son still inherited.
Now there was nothing to stop Lord Ridgecleff from becoming the earl, now that he truly was the earl…
He had no need to stay engaged to Natalie.
She nearly staggered. It felt as though someone had struck her with an arrow. He had no need of her now. He no longer had to stay engaged to a woman that he did not love, did not even care for.
But of course he could not break off the engagement. Only the lady could do that for the lady was the one who had accepted the proposal.
Natalie had to do it.
She swallowed down the tears that threatened to prick at her eyes and form a lump in her throat. She would do it. She loved him and when you truly loved someone you put their needs and desires above your own.
But not right now. Not while he was clearly so distracted by grief and a sense of duty.
“My lord,” Natalie said, stepping forward. “You are the earl now. That means you have a responsibility to the land and to the people who live on it. But you cannot care for them properly if you are running yourself ragged.
“Go on a long walk. You are quite fond of them. I will not join you this time. I think some time alone will do you some good. I shall instruct the household in what to do. I remember well my mother’s funeral and how things went then.
“Allow me to take care of those preparations that I can. I will not meddle with anything that concerns the estate.” She kept her voice firm. “You will not do yourself or the others any good if you work yourself into the ground.
“I can well handle the beginnings of the funeral preparations and that is half of your battle. I cannot meddle with the affairs of the estate but they can easily wait a few hours while you do what must be done.”
“And what is it that must be done?” Lord Ridgecleff asked, challenging her.
If she was soon to be out of his life, no more to trouble him, then she could hardly lose anything by being frank. “Grieve, my lord. You must take your time to grieve.
“Go on your walk. You may say the things that you want to say and do the things that you want to do there. Then you can return, refresh yourself, and start anew. These papers will still be there.”
He looked at her for a moment as if he could not quite decipher her meaning. Then he abruptly stood. “Very well.”
Natalie watched him go, her heart heavy. As soon as she had taken care of what she could for the funeral…as soon as the household had recovered enough for everyone to stand on their own two feet…
She would free him from his engagement. She would end it.
People would talk, of course. They had already been seen together. She had already made announcements. But she could weather the storm. She had to. She would do what was right for Lord Ridgecleff. She loved him, and any sacrifice was worth his happiness.
It was so strange, wasn’t it? At the beginning she had hardly given a thought to him other than what he could do for her. How he could entertain her. How well she would look on his arm.
Now she would have gladly done anything to help him even if it meant her own unhappiness. Even if it risked her own reputation.
It would be easy enough to persuade him. Oh, of course at first, he would refuse. He would be worried for her reputation. He might not love her, but he was an honorable man. He would make a token protest.
Once he saw that she was serious, however, he would back down. He would acquiesce and thank her for freeing him. He would be able to focus on the estate and all of that instead of worrying about a wedding. Then he could find a bride—one that he truly cared about, one that he truly wanted to be with—when he was ready and not a moment sooner. He could take his time.
Natalie had to hold in some tears at the thought of him being with another woman.
She took a deep breath. She was an adult. She was trying to be mature. She could handle this.
She would do the right thing.
Natalie sat down at the desk and began to organize things. It would all be fine.
It would all be just fine.
Chapter 38
John had no intention of stopping his work, not for anything. Things must be taken in hand. The tenants and the servants and all the rest had to know that he had a handle on things and that all would remain as it was. That it would be smooth sailing.
But when Natalie had been so firm, and so gentle about it…he couldn’t resist her. And he supposed that a small break, giving into her request, couldn’t cause too many problems.
And as before, with the carriage, she turned out to be right.
The walk afforded him the perfect opportunity for privacy. Out there in nature, with no one around, he could give into his grief.
He was not ashamed to admit, at least to himself, that he cried. Releasing the tension enabled him to better keep a stiff upper lip once he returned to the house.
He said a few things to the wind. He let himself feel and allowed it all to wash over him.
Then he returned to the house.
He found Natalie in the study, compiling a list with Edward.
“Ah, excellent timing, my lord,” she said, standing up and smiling at him, he thought, a little hesitantly. “We have compiled a guest list for the funeral. I have spoken with the cook about the menu and instructed the household in what has occurred. I can make the invitations if you wish.”
“That would be most kind, thank you.”
Miss Natalie handed him the list to check over. Edward had done a good job of it. Everyone that John would have thought to invite was on there.
“Perfect,” he told her.
Miss Natalie smiled at him and then went off to write the invitations.
Edward watched her go, then turned and looked at John. “I have something to say, and it is rather bold of me.”
“If there’s any time for being honest, it is now,” John replied.
Edward sighed. “I think that you ought to tell your lady that you care for her. I’m sure that you have already but it seems that she needs reminding.
“Her regard for you is great but she seems unaware of your own returned feelings.”
John stared at him. “Her own regard—whatever do you mean?”
Edward frowned. “Are you unaware of her own esteem for you?”
John wondered for a moment if he ought to lie. Then he shook his head. “I had not thought…”
“Did you think that she only agreed to marry you for your money?” Edward asked.
The real explanation was much more complicated. And besides, John did not know the full story as to why Miss Natalie and her sisters had to marry so quickly, at least initially. It was not his story to tell, in any case.
He nodded. “Along those lines, yes.”
Edward shook his head as though John was the
biggest fool he had ever encountered. “She is quite gone on you, and I mean that in a romantic fashion.”
“She spoke to you of this?”
“I do not think she was even aware of how much she alluded to it in her behavior.” Edward smiled. “We are never as subtle as we like to think in our behavior when we are in love. Or when we dislike someone, for that matter.”
John sighed. “I suppose this means that you are aware of my own…”
“Your own deep affection for her? Yes.” Edward chuckled. “I am surprised that the lady herself does not notice. But we tend to be rather self-absorbed when we are in love. We are so worried about how we portray ourselves. We are equally self-deprecating and convinced that the person cannot return our affections. It makes us blind to what others standing around might see.”
John’s thoughts were whirling. Could it be that he had been wrong this entire time? Could it be that he had been blind to how Miss Natalie truly felt—and that she had been blind as to how he felt as well?
“I think that I have been a blind fool,” John declared.
Edward gave him a wry look. “Possibly. I do not know your entire story of course. That is between the two of you. But it would not be the first time in our lives that you have slipped up.”
John huffed out a laugh. “No, it would not be. I suppose that it would be all right with you if I were to…go and speak with her?”
Edward gestured for John to go. “I doubt that you would be much assistance with your mind thus distracted.”
“The matters of the estate come first.”
“The matter of your heart is just as important as the estate, brother. I can manage to start getting things in order. It has only been a day, after all.” Edward smiled kindly at him. “You do not have to be so hard on yourself.”
“I was too easy on myself for too long.”
“You heard Father. He underestimated you, and he apologized for it. I think that you are underestimating yourself as well. Forgive yourself, just as you forgave Father, and just as he forgave you.